


What The Green Door Hid

by puss_nd_boots



Category: Fest Vainqueur, 己龍 | Kiryuu
Genre: Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 20:57:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12140985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: Former true crime reporter Junji thinks he's moved on to a new career in music reporting – until his boss begs him to do one more piece, investigating the rumors of kidnappings at a sex club. Unfortunately, he has to keep his assignment secret from everyone – including the gorgeous new neighbor who's proving a welcome distraction. Except the neighbor might have secrets of his own . . .





	What The Green Door Hid

**Author's Note:**

> For the Behind Closed Doors September challenge at vkyaoi. The inspiration for this fic is Behind the Green Door, a film from the “Golden Age of Porn” which has a plot that closely parallels the rumors that Junji is investigating in this story. The main character of that film was named Gloria. (Further inspiration came from Fest Vainqueur's song of that name). Kiryu belongs to BP Records, Fest Vainqueur belongs to plug records WEST, I own the story only.

Junji flung himself down on the couch, arm across his eyes, drawing a deep breath. Finally, finally he was done moving. He felt like it had taken three years off his life.

The apartment was worth it, though. It was almost twice as big as his old place. It had a full kitchen, as opposed to his old “microwave, a couple of burners and a half-fridge.” There was a bedroom – with a real bed – instead of “Clear off some floor space for a futon.”

Well, he'd earned an apartment like this. It was a new phase of his life, of his career.

He'd been a writer with Jack Flash magazine since he'd gotten out of university. Well, even before that, though – he'd first contacted them about freelancing in his final year. The magazine had a diverse lineup of articles – it had started out a a music publication way back in the '60s, and then branched out into politics, social issues, and true crime.

The latter had been Junji's specialty through most of his career. He'd traveled all over the country, doing investigations into cases that involved younger people caught up in unthinkable situations – the soccer player accused of murdering a teammate, the gymnasts who claimed they had been raped by their coach, the teacher who had an affair with an underage student and ran away with her.

He interviewed people on all sides of the issues, doing his best to present a balanced portrait of what happened. It was exciting work. It was challenging. It was also taxing as hell, emotionally and physically. Junji would finish a story and feel like he'd been through a wringer.

Small surprise, then, that he asked his boss for a transfer to the music beat. It had taken him awhile. His first request was met with, “Well, you've made a name for yourself in true crime, and we really need you there . . .” His second request drew, “We don't have any openings in music right now. That staff is full.”

And then, one of their music writers – who had been with them since the '70s – abruptly announced his retirement. Junji resubmitted his request. “You can't tell me there's no openings now – there IS one! And I think Visual Fury magazine has jobs open. If you won't give me the music position . . .”

He'd gotten what he wanted – a transfer to the music department AND a raise. A new writer had been hired for true crime, a fresh-out-of-college newbie as Junji had once been. And Junji had just experienced three blissful months of interviewing musicians, without having to dig deep into anyone's troubled psyche or analyze why bad things happened to good people.

So he marked his life trandition by getting this new place. Just another way to celebrate. He was never going back to true crime again as long as he . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He picked it up. Fuck, it was the boss. “Hello?”

The voice on the other end was frantic. “Junji, I need you to finish the story Hiroki started.”

Junji yawned. “Yamato-san, I told you, I'm done with true crime. Completely done. Why can't Hiroki finish it?”

“Because he's in the hospital with a broken leg, that's why! He managed to fall down a flight of stairs when he was drunk.”

“So can't it wait until he recovers?”

“We have no idea when he's recovering! We're borrowing a crime reporter from The Lens” – a mainstream lifestyle magazine – “but he's writing a book, and needs to finish it fast, and we've only got a couple of weeks before this issue goes to press. And, no, the story can't wait for the other guy. We've blocked space in the next issue for it AND sold ads around it – the advertisers specifically want to appear next to THIS piece.”

Junji sighed. Typical. They were letting advertising drive the content. Well, advertising WAS what brought in the money. “It's gonna cost you extra, you know.”

“I know. I'm willing to pay you double for your time on the story. Plus expenses.”

“Just what IS it that's so damn attractive to the advertisers, anyway?” Junji said. “Is it another rich-girls-kill-each-other murder?”

“No. It's not a murder at all. It's a story about a sex club.”

That made Junji sit up straight. “A WHAT?”

“It's a private club not that far from you called the Green Door. All very hush-hush. From the outside, it looks like a warehouse. But on the inside, people pay money to watch live gay male sex acts. But – and here's where the crime part comes in – there's rumors that they kidnap unsuspecting young men and force them to perform.”

No wonder they got advertisers for that. Sex sold, bottom line – even more than murder. “What if I find out there's nothing behind the rumors, huh? What happens to your story then?”

“Then the rumors BECOME the story. It becomes an analysis piece on why the club exists, on the people who work there, and how the rumors got started. Please, Junji – I won't ask you to do another crime story after this, I promise.”

Well, so much for his tranquil new life. “How far did Hiroki get?”

“Not that far. He interviewed some employees, and all of them said they had no knowledge of any kidnappings. He talked to a couple of regulars, too, who swore they saw a boy molested against his will on the stage.”

“All right,” Junji said. “I'll be down tomorrow to read his notes. One more question – if this club is so secretive, how am I going to get in?”

“The same way Hiroki did,” the boss said. “Posing as a member of the catering crew. They do have hors d'oeurves brought in every day for the members. We did make contact with their catering company – it's called Hot! Menu! – and they agreed to it. So if you meet anyone new while you're working on this story? You introduce yourself as a member of the crew. You don't want to blow your cover.”

Junji rubbed a hand over his face. “I'm holding you to the double my salary thing, you know.”

“You don't have to,” the boss said. “You have my word.”

“Good,” Junji said. He said his goodbyes and dropped the phone on the table.

Fuck, he thought. Just fuck. Back to true crime. For a story about a sex club. With a cover of being a caterer. Yippee-kai-yay. His new beginning was just blown to smithereens.

This had better be worth it, he thought.

* * *

At the end of his first day of investigation, he felt like he hadn't gotten much further than Hiroki.

His cover, he felt, was just making him look like a nosy bastard. He asked everyone he met, in a casual, conversational tone, about the rumors of kidnappings.

“What the staff does is none of my business. I just supply the music,” the club's DJ had told him. “Have I seen guys up there who look like they're scared out of their minds? Sure. Do I question it? No. This is show business. How do I know it's not acting?”

“How do you know it's not assault?” Junji countered.

“Look, I figure that anyone who comes through that door knows what they're getting into.” The DJ nodded toward the door at the back of the stage – which was, indeed, green. “They have an opportunity to run if they want. I've never seen a gun pointed at anybody.”

The bartenders were more cagey. One of them said, “There's patrons who come because they think they're seeing a guy get raped, sure. Is it really rape? Hell if I know. But I also know that the inexperienced boys aren't as big a draw as the star acts. Like, for instance, Gloria.”

“A woman?” Junji said. “Thought this was an all-male club.”

“Oh, it is. And Gloria IS a guy. A really pretty guy. The audience loves him, because he's . . . let's say, a multitasker. I've seen him do four guys at once.”

“FOUR?” Okay, that wasn't expected. “How is that possible?”

“Two holes, two hands, my man. He's the busiest guy in clubland.”

“Holy crap,” Junji said. He almost wanted to interview this Gloria just so he could ask him how he did it.

“You come see the show some night,” the bartender said. “You work for the catering firm, you have a pass. The bouncers will let you in. Believe me – you'll be amazed.”

“I'm sure,” Junji said. Well, that wasn't what he was originally planning on seeing, but hey.

And so, he dragged himself back into the lobby of his apartment building at the end of the day, thinking he was going to be headed for the couch and a good flop-down – until his eyes beheld a vision in front of the elevator.

He was a very lovely young man with long, red-gold hair, big eyes and very full lips, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt from one of the hip Harajuku boutiques. He was also going through his keychain, looking perplexed.

“Lose something?” Junji said.

“My apartment key,” the man said. “I just moved here, and I have a lot of keys on this thing, and . . .”

“Me, too,” Junji said. “I just moved here, I mean. I'm in 4D.”

“I'm 4C,” the other man said. “We're neighbors, then.”

“Good thing, then,” Junji said. “I'd hate to have someone unattractive living next to me.”

The man frowned. “Are you flirting?” he said.

“That depends,” Junji said. “Do you usually flirt with guys?”

“I'm not picky about male or female, as long as they're attractive.”

Good, Junji thought. And I'm really hoping you find me attractive – because I sure as hell am thinking that way about you. “We'll say I'm being friendly and call it at that.”

His neighbor put his keys back in his pocket. “If you're so friendly, why haven't you told me your name?”

“Well, in that case, I'm Junji. And you?”

“Gaku. My name is Gaku.”

“Nice to meet you, Gaku. And I'd be happy to show you your key, and escort you to your apartment. Unless . . .”

“Unless?”

“You'd like to go for a drink with me? You know, a getting-to-know you thing? We ARE neighbors, after all.”

Gaku frowned. “Do you always move this fast?”

“Only when I meet an interesting new neighbor.”

“Fine, I'll go for a drink with you,” he said. “I don't have to work tonight.”

“You work nights?”

“I'm on staff at a private bar. You know, a hoity-toity thing for rich people.”

“Understood,” Junji said. “Okay, onward. And just a drink, I swear. I won't try anything else.”

“You'd better not!” Gaku said.

They headed out the door. Well, this night was at least looking up.

* * *

The bar they ended up at was around the corner from their apartment. It was very much a neighborhood place, where buttoned-up salarymen and dyed-and-pierced artistic types alike congregated for a few drinks at the end of the day.

For two guys just getting used to their new surroundings, it was comfortable enough. They ordered beers and bar snacks, and Junji said, “This reminds me of a bar I near where I used to live.”

“Were you in another city?” Gaku said.

“Nope. Just another ward. I just moved a bit closer to where I work.”

“And that is?”

“A food service operation. That's just a temporary gig for me, though,” Junji said. “My real ambition is to write a book.” Well, that wasn't a lie. And there was no reason he couldn't talk about his fiction writing. Only his journalism had to stay a secret.

“Oh?” Gaku said. “I've heard that from a lot of guys.”

“The rich guys in your club have ambitions like that?”

“You might say that.”

“So, is your working in the club a temporary gig, too?” Junji said. “Or do you have another ambition?”

Gaku paused. “I'd like to get into film,” he said.

“Oh, really?” Junji said. “In front of the camera, or behind?”

“In front of it.”

“Well, you definitely have the kind of face people want to photograph,” Junji said.

“Tell that to the casting directors,” Gaku said. 

“They don't want to hire you?” Junji said. “I'm shocked.”

“I wouldn't still be working there if they did.”

“Well, tell you what,” Junji said. “We're going to make a deal here and now. You're never going to give up on the idea of getting into films, and I'm never going to give up on the idea of getting a book out. How's that? We can support each other.”

Gaku gave him an odd look. “You really mean that?”

“Yes, I do,” Junji said.

“Because you just met me. We've known each other exactly ten minutes, and you're offering to give me support in my career.”

“Well, then, why don't we get to know each other a bit more?” Junji said. “That will justify my support.”

“You really are a smooth talker,” Gaku said. He paused. “But you seem sincere.”

“Nothing but sincerity to give,” Junji said. Well, other than hiding his assignment.

“In that case?” Gaku pulled out his phone and handed it to Junji. “Go ahead and put your number in there.”

“You mean it?”

“We're neighbors. Of course I do.”

“Then here's my phone.” Junji handed it to Gaku. “And, yeah, what are neighbors for, right?”

Gaku smiled as he took the phone and put his contact info in it. Junji felt a warmth spreading through his heart.

I want to get to know him better, he thought. A LOT better.

* * *

They ended up staying in that bar for several hours, talking about the towns where they grew up, the places where they had lived before moving there, their first impressions of their new building and their new neighborhood.

Junji was someone Gaku felt comfortable with. Somebody he could be himself around. Someone who, well, he could let see parts of himself that had to stay buried during . . . THAT part of his life.

He was still thinking about the time he'd spent with his neighbor when he headed off to work the next evening. It pained him that he had to keep where he was going – where he was REALLY going – a secret. But he didn't want to scare Junji off in the early stages of their relationship.

He wanted a chance for this to go somewhere . . . for once in his life.

Gaku arrived at the place where he really worked. Nobody would know what it was unless they were looking for it, unless they knew it was there. He reached into his pocket and removed his big ring of keys.

Unlike his apartment key, he knew exactly what his work key looked like. It had a distinct copper color. He put it into a back door, turned it to the right and stepped through.

It was a backstage area like you'd see in any other performing venue – a wall of mirrors, another wall with a long counter, more mirrors, and chairs where people could do their makeup. You would think this was a music club, or a place that hosted variety acts.

It was none of the above.

Gaku hung up his coat, opened the bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out his makeup kit. He sat down in one of the chairs and started applying his foundation.

He was approached by Hal, the assistant stage manager, a young man with long, wavy brown hair and a face pretty enough to be onstage himself.

“Hey,” Hal said. “Good to see you. The customers were asking about you last night, you know.”

“The show has other acts,” Gaku said.

“Yes, but none of them are YOU,” Hal said. “You have people who joined just because they wanted to see you do your thing, you know.”

“If I left, would this place collapse?” Gaku said. “It was here before I joined, you know.”

“Yes, it was – but it wasn't anywhere near as popular. Word got around about you very quickly.”

“Like the OTHER gossip that spreads about this club?” Gaku said.

“Oh, yeah, that reminds me.” Hal sat down in a seat next to him. “Be careful who you talk to. Seems there's a new guy on the catering staff who's asking a lot of questions about those rumors.”

“So?” Gaku said. “He's probably heard about this place and he's curious. If I were given an assignment here, I'd be asking about it, too.”

“That might be the case,” Hal said, “but he MAY be a cop. You know, undercover. We can't be too careful.”

“They have NOTHING to bust us for,” Gaku said. “The rumors are just rumors. You know it and I know it.”

“Yes, but you ALSO know that the cops would love nothing more than to be able to say they shut us down. We're notorious. To put us out of business would be a feather in a cop's cap – especially if he was taking bribes from a conservative politician.”

“Don't you think the cops have a lot more to worry about than us?” Gaku said. “You know, like actual CRIME?”

“Some real crimes aren't as attractive to the press as the alleged crimes that supposedly take place here.”

“This is bullshit.” Gaku fumbled around in his bag, then looked around the counter. “Have you seen my longer string of pearls?”

“They're on the stage, I think,” Hal said. “One of the guys borrowed them last night, and took them off during the act.”

“Again? I'm taking them home with me every night from now on, I swear,” Gaku sighed, pushing toward the stage entrance.

“Better make sure they haven't started letting the crowds in,” Hal said. “You don't want them to see you before your big entrance – Gloria.”

Gaku sighed. “I only use that name during shows. You can call me by my real name offstage, you know,” he said. He pressed his ear to the wall next to the door, listening for audience noise. When he was satisfied he didn't hear any, he opened the Green Door and stepped out.

* * *

Over the next several days, Junji felt like he was living a double life.

He was doing his runs to the club with the catering service, catching staff members when he could, trying to interview them. The more time went on, the more close-mouthed they got. Apparently, word was getting around that someone was asking questions.

His most productive interview so far came from a former handyman who was now working for a contracting company up the road, but still loaned a hand to Green Door from time to time. The man swore up and down that there had been at least one case of kidnapping in the past – “Some highfaultin' rich boy got snatched from his country club and brought down here and screwed within an inch of his life on that stage. He didn't seem like he minded it, though.”

Cross-checking with police records proved completely fruitless. He could find no records of anyone claiming to have been kidnapped and raped on the stage of a sex club. Of course, he thought, maybe it's because they didn't WANT to come forward. Maybe they'd been intimidated, or threatened, or . . .

And then, there was his boss, who kept calling him asking for the story. How could he deliver it when, so far, there seemed to be no story to tell?

Fortunately, he was able to deal with his frustrations by going out in the evenings with Gaku. Usually, they had only a couple of hours between Junji stopping work for the day and Gaku starting, but that was still enough time to hit the happy hour at that bar together.

They found out that they'd liked most of the same TV series and movies as children, and that they both played video games when they could – although neither had the time to really consider himself a full-fledged gamer. Both expressed interest in being able to get a pet – someday.

“I never had room for one before,” Gaku said. “And I just need things to settle down a little before I get one now.”

“Same here,” Junji said. “But it would be a cool thing to have a pet. My sister had a precious little dog, named Fetch.”

“I'm not sure if I'd want a dog or a cat,” Gaku said. “They're both adorable.”

“Why not have both?”

“And spend all my time being a fight referee? No, thanks.”

“I could help you,” Junji said. “We could be referees together.”

“You don't have any experience with animals. Other than your sister's dog.”

“You don't need experience,” Junji said. “You just need to be willing to open your heart and give them your love. And, you know . . . that's me. I'm an open-hearted person.”

But Gaku, he thought, was the one who had a good heart. He was adorable. He had moments of being prickly, but he still seemed sweet underneath. There was just something genuine about him, utterly natural and sincere.

Which made Junji feel bad about being dishonest, not being able to blow his cover. But he couldn't take chances. All he needed to do was say the wrong word in front of the wrong eavesdropper, and the whole story would fall apart.

Sometimes, chasing fame and glory really sucked.

* * *

Gaku was very used to performing his signature act on the stage of the Green Door.

He didn't do it every night he was on, of course. That would get stale and boring. He left the audience guessing what he was going to do that night. Was he going to perform with a group of men made up to look like robots and wielding dildos? Was he going to do a one-on-one with another feature performer – usually one of the well-endowed gaijin who were part of the club lineup? Or . . .

Was he going to mount a specially-designed revolving platform and take on four men at once – one in his mouth, one in his ass, one in each hand?

It was a complex trick, and not as fun as it looked to the audience. It took a lot of concentration. He was on his knees and leaning forward, and the men doing the penetrating were on either end of him. The ones receiving the hand jobs were sitting on special seats on either side of the man receiving the blow job, so Gaku had to reach up to them – all the better to allow the audience to see what was going on. The revolving platform let them see every angle. Cameras at either side of the stage, mounted by staffers, zoomed in for closeups, shown on monitors placed to allow even those at the back of the room to see.

It was all erotic spectacle in every sense of the word. If it went right, the four men came in quick succession to each other, and Gaku ended up coated in white as the audience applauded madly. None of them noticed, by the way, that the STAR didn't get off on the act.

He would get off during the one-on-ones, of course. He'd even come during the robots-with-dildos thing. But this? Forget it. He had to be thinking about it every moment. He'd feel the cocks everywhere, but they might as well be medical instruments.

Except on this particular night, when the performer in back of him began to penetrate, things were different. Suddenly, instead of intense concentration on his act, his mind was filled with . . . a fantasy.  
In his head, he was in his bedroom, on the bed, and Junji was behind him, filling him, pushing into him as his hands moved over his body, gently caressing . . .

Not fucking. Making love. Taking him with gentleness, touching and kissing him, caring about his pleasure, not how it looked to the audience . . .

He hadn't done it in so long, so very long. He imagined giving himself over completely to Junji, leaning against him, moaning in sheer pleasure, wanting him to feel good, too. . . He started to move his hips, thinking about thrusting along with his lover . . .

A gasp and murmur from the audience brought him back to reality. Shit. Oh, shit, he was supposed to be doing his act, and he'd let go of both the hand job guys, the blow job guy had slipped out of his mouth . . .

He had to get back on the ball, fast. He started sucking and stroking with more intensity than ever, hearing the performers respond with moans. And he began wondering what Junji would sound like during sex, whether he'd be a loud moaner, whether he'd scream when he came . . .

And he had to stop that right NOW. If he lost focus again, the act was ruined. He forced himself to think of this as PERFORMANCE, not sex, to pace his movements, to make sure that all four of them got off when they were supposed to. Don't think about Junji, don't wonder about him, just get this act over with . . .

Fortunately, he was able to coax near-simultaneous eruptions out of all four, which brought a loud burst of cheers from the audience. Gaku breathed a sigh of relief. He'd managed to salvage the act after the slip-up. He stood up and bowed, then rushed backstage.

Hal was waiting for him, as he usually did, with some wet towels to wipe off with. “What happened out there?” he said. “It's like for a moment . . . you lost it. Completely.”

“I got it back, didn't I?” Gaku said, rushing off for the shower before the assistant stage manager could say anything else.

When he was under the water, he breathed deeply. Good Lord – he knew he liked Junji, but to have something like that happen? He'd never lost focus before. NEVER. His feelings were growing faster than he'd thought – and that was a problem.

I can't let it get in the way of the act again, he thought. I need to stay completely focused, no matter what. I usually don't do the four-guy act two shows in a row, but I HAVE to do it again tomorrow. I HAVE to. I need to prove to myself that I can still do it.

He didn't want to think about the bigger issue – the reality that if their relationship grew any more, he might be forced to tell Junji the truth about what he did. What would happen if the other man rejected him?

It was a question Gaku most definitely didn't want the answer to.

* * *

Junji was starting to get extremely frustrated about the number of dead ends he was hitting.

One stagehand did talk to him – briefly. But he said, “Look, buddy, most of us don't know about stuff like that. I don't know why you're asking, but it's not the kind of thing a caterer usually wonders about.”

“I'm curious about the rumors, that's all.”

“You mean that you have a relative who suddenly disappeared, and you think he's one of the kidnap victims? Hardly.”

“So you admit there ARE kidnap victims?”

“I didn't say that! I was being sarcastic, geez! Look, the only people who know EVERYTHING about what goes on here are the stage managers and performers. Good luck talking to any of them. Only time anyone talks to the performers is when . . .”

“When . . . what?”

“They come out into the audience sometimes at the end of the show and interact with fans. Sign autographs, take selfies, that kind of thing. Maybe you could get in a few quick questions if you come to the show tonight.”

Junji's mind was racing. His first day there, he'd been told his catering credentials could get him into performances. Maybe he could come there tonight . . . and get the performers to talk after the show. Maybe he'd even be able to interview the mysterious Gloria himself. Hell, maybe he could get him to talk about more than the alleged kidnappings – an interview with the club's star sex show performer would make a great sidebar.

“Thanks for the tip,” he said, and made a quick exit from the club.

* * *

Junji texted Gaku that afternoon. “Need to skip our date tonight, unfortunately,” he said. “Have an old friend coming into town, meeting him.”

Gaku was actually relieved when he got it. He'd be going into work tonight without Junji fresh on his mind. He'd be able to concentrate on his act, what he was doing. I'm not going to mess up tonight, he thought.

And so, when Gaku arrived at the club, he informed Hal right away that he was doing the four-man act again that night.

“Really?” Hal said. “So soon? Gaku, that's a pretty intense act to be doing two nights in a row. Wouldn't you rather do the robot act instead? That doesn't necessarily involve penetration, they can use the toys on your cock. Or just do a pole dance? You have to let your body recover a little.”

“I'm fine,” Gaku said. “I'm up to it, I can do it.”

“All right, then,” Hal said. “But I'm talking to the boss about giving you tomorrow off altogether. You . . .”

Another staffer came up to Hal. “Um, I think TROUBLE is in the audience again.”

“Oh, crap,” Hal said. He knew very well what that meant. TROUBLE was a guy who tended to come into the club, drink heavily, and loudly shout out his undying love to several of the performers – including Gloria. He wasn't dangerous, per se – but he was sure as hell disruptive.

“Have the bouncers keep an eye on him. If he gets out of hand, out he goes.” Hal turned back to Gaku. “You SURE you want to do that act, with that guy out there?”

“He doesn't bother me,” Gaku said. “He's just a drunken asshole, and he doesn't try to touch us. Just . . . just let me do it, okay?”

“All right. I'll round up the other guys,” Hal said. He patted Gaku on the shoulder and left.

Gaku sat down at the mirror and started doing his makeup, quietly. Yes, he'd make this a performance to be proud of. He'd erase what happened last night, his loss of concentration over Junji . . .

But he was totally unaware that the man who'd been a distraction to him was currently making his way to the club and taking a seat.

* * *

The thing that struck Junji was how normal the place seemed.

He'd been in there plenty of times before at this point, of course – but that had been before it was in “show” mode. He'd figured that once the audience was in, it would take on a different vibe – a sort of creeper one, like the place was crawling with living, breathing mugshots.

Instead, it was like any other gay club he'd been in. The crowd was diverse – closet case salarymen, gaudily-dressed showbiz types constantly on their phones, even some women. People were getting drinks at the bar, chatting, settling into tables that faced the stage. Speaking of the stage, that looked normal, too – it was bare at the moment, save for stripper poles at either side, with the famous Green Door that gave the club its name set in the center of the rear wall.

One of the well-dressed men came up to the table where Junji was sitting alone. “Haven't seen you here before,” he said.

“I've been working with the catering crew that services this place,” Junji said. “I just wanted to see what the show was like first-hand. I've heard a lot about it – especially about the newbie acts.”

“Newbies?” The man looked confused.

“Someone told me that they bring guys in who've never been on stage before.” Junji looked all innocence.

“Well, sometimes,” the man said. “That's not what you want to see, though. You want to see the feature acts – especially Gloria.”

“I heard about him,” Junji said. “He's been here awhile, hasn't he?”

“A few years,” the man said. “Longer than any performer they've got here, I think.”

Check, Junji thought. I've got to find a way to talk to this Gloria. If anyone would know first-hand about whether or not other performers were kidnapped, it's him. “So, the other thing I've heard about this place . . . do the performers interact with the audience?”

“You mean, do they do lap dances or something like that? Nope. That's forbidden. They'll come out afterward and take selfies with you if you want, though – long as you promise not to spread them around. The club is secret.”

“Including Gloria? Does he do selfies?”

“Oh, yeah. He comes out quite a lot, in fact. I have a selfie with him, in fact. Let me show . . .”

At that moment, the lights went down, and a spotlight hit the stage. A man dressed in an outfit meant to suggest a ringmaster's uniform – a tuxedo with tails, with a top hat and cane – stepped onto the stage.

“Welcome, one and all, to another night at the Green Door!” he said. “We have a spectacular show for you tonight! First of all, the double strip act of Yoshi and Toshi! And after that, the bootylicious Yaya-kun, performing with Erik the Norwegian! The king of whips, Bossu, and his prettiest victim, Kiki-kun! And finally, our star attraction . . . which you'll have to wait for and see!”

I wonder if the star attraction is a kidnapped newbie – if such a thing does, indeed, exist, Junji thought.

The acts began performing – and Junji found himself getting fidgety. There was nothing there to spark his interest. The dual strippers were generic pretty boys. So was the “bootylicious Yaya-kun,” who performed a sort of erotic bump-and-grind dance in conjunction with the much more muscular Norwegian, culminating in pretty standard sex – during which Junji found himself looking at the movement of the spotlights and resisting the urge to take out his phone.

I don't know why I can't get into this, he said. Obviously, the rest of the audience is enjoying it, by the way they're whooping and clapping. To me, though, it's something I'd rather be doing than watching.

An image filled his mind of Gaku on all fours in front of him, the way the “bootylicious Yaya-kun” was in front of the Norwegian. He thought of running his hands over his beautiful neighbor's body, caressing him, entering him while Gaku moaned in pleasure . . .

Okay, he thought, maybe this place IS getting to me. But not the performers. Gaku is far more attractive than any of them.

He knew he shouldn't be thinking of that kind of thing now, though. Nope, he had to maintain a professional distance. Objectivity, and all that. Except the more he saw of the sexual performances, the more he thought about the beauty next door.

The kinky act, at least, offered a little more variety and visual interest. It started with a rather artistic demonstration of rope bondage, followed by some flogging play – the “King of Whips” title was a bit misleading, as the performer was using a much safer cat o'nine tails rather than a true bullwhip.

Junji studied the sub carefully for any signs that he might be one of the kidnapped newbies – but he was very obviously as experienced at this as the dom was, knowing just what positions to put his body in to be tied up and flogged safely and pleasurably.

At the conclusion of that act, the ringmaster came out again and said, “And now, dear friends, our featured attraction of the evening. You folks are getting a rare treat – it isn't very often that our star player does his feature act two nights in a row, but he has graciously agreed to do it! So without further ado, here he is, accompanied by Johnny-K, Mu, Ito and Shiki – the beautiful, the fabulous, the one and only GLORIA!”

Junji's interest piqued. Finally, he was going to see this star that he'd heard so much about! The audience roared in approval as stagehands brought out a revolving platform on which there were some cushions and two chairs, and one shaggy-looking man stood up, arms spread wide, and screamed, “GLORIA! GLORIA! I LOVE YOU, GLORIA!”

The stage was dark, with just one dim light allowing the four supporting performers, all nude, to get into position – two in the chairs, one on either side of the cushions. Then, a bright spotlight suddenly hit a figure who had walked out in front of the platform, with his back to the audience, red-gold hair flowing over an elaborately embroidered kimono. There was something familiar about that form, that hair . . .

The man walked toward the platform and stepped onto it. He raised his arms and dropped the kimono dramatically, revealing that he had a lovely butterfly tattoo on his hip and a butt plug hanging out of his well-shaped ass. He was prepared backstage, Junji thought. They don't want to bother with preliminaries out here – they want to get straight to the action.

And then, Gloria turned around, facing his audience for the first time – and Junji's jaw fell.

Holy fuck, he thought. No, it can't be. My mind is playing tricks on me. It's projecting his face onto the performer. There is no way, no FUCKING way in hell. Gaku CAN'T be Gloria. He just CAN'T.

He watched as Gloria – no, GAKU, it was still Gaku, it was no mind trick – knelt on the cushions, leaning forward. The performer behind him pulled the butt plug out – it was obvious what he was going to do. The one positioned in front of him – well, his role was also obvious, he was near Gaku's mouth. And the lovely boy next door was reaching behind him for the cocks of the other two . .   
.  
I can't believe it, Junji thought. Gaku is a sex performer. No, no just any performer, THE star of this club. This is what he was going to every night. All along, I've been listening to people tell me about the superstar of the Green Door, and I didn't even dream it was the man I've been having drinks with every night . . .

And now, he was going to watch him pleasure four men. In front of everyone. Did he want to? Could he watch this? Could he . . .

Except before the act could truly begin, the shaggy man leapt onstage. “GLORIA!” he shouted. “You're my destiny! Come away with me, Gloria!”

Oh, shit. Gaku had a stalker. He was in danger. There was no way in HELL he was letting this guy hurt him. The man was lurching toward the performers, and where the fuck were the bouncers, wasn't anyone looking out for them . . .

On instinct, Junji suddenly leapt for the stage. He shoved the shaggy man, who tumbled backward, and grabbed Gaku, throwing him over his shoulder. He ran for the back of the stage, reaching out for the handle of that green door and yanking it open.

Behind him, he heard chaos. Audience members screaming, staff members yelling, the ringmaster pleading for calm. He just kept running. He had to get Gaku away from . . . whoever that had been. The back door of the theater was in his sights, and he pushed it, running out into an alley, where he sat Gaku down on his feet, pulling off his suit jacket and wrapping it around him.

“Here, take this . . .”

Gaku just stared at him, stunned. What the fuck had just happened? TROUBLE had come after him, and the bouncers were nowhere in sight, and he was saved by . . . JUNJI? Where the hell did he come from?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Gaku spluttered.

“I could ask you the same question,” Junji said.

“You could see what I'm doing here!” Gaku said. “At least what I tried to do before that happened!”

“You're Gloria?” Junji said. “You're REALLY Gloria?”

“Yes, I'm Gloria! I . . . I . . .” Gaku turned away from him. “I didn't want you to find out. Not like that.”

“I didn't want to find it out, either! I mean . . . oh, shit . . .” Junji looked away from Gaku. “I didn't mean it like that. Like what you were doing was bad. I meant . . .” Crap. His brain was fried by this ridiculous situation. He was standing here in an alley arguing with his gorgeous neighbor, who he'd just carried away from a sex show. A goddamn SEX SHOW. Which he was STARRING in.

“And just what were you doing there?” Gaku said. “How the fuck did you know about Gloria? Who are you, really? Because I have a feeling you're not who you told me you were!”

“Well, I just found out that YOU aren't who you told me you were!”

“You didn't answer my question!” Gaku shouted. “If you were in the Green Door, if you knew about Gloria . . .”

“I'm a reporter, okay?” Junji shouted. “I'm a reporter for Jack Flash magazine, and I had to take over for another guy who started a story about this place and never finished it.”

“A reporter?” Gaku said. “A REPORTER? You're WRITING about our club? Is THAT why you were friendly with me all along? To get info?”

“NO!” Junji said. “I told you, I never knew you were Gloria! Not at all! Not until I found you in the club! I went out with you because I LIKE you, not because I want you as a source!”

Except, of course, the reason he had come to the club tonight was because he DID want him as a source. Or rather, wanted Gloria as a source. That didn't matter right now. Good Lord, the story was the last thing in the world he was thinking of right now.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” Gaku shouted. “Do you REALLY expect me to believe that?”

“Yes, dammit!” Junji shouted back. “The Gaku I got to know was an incredibly sweet guy who was fun to spend time with. I like to think that's the REAL Gaku, and you weren't putting on an act.”

“Why would I put on an act?” Gaku retorted. “I wasn't on STAGE when I was with you!”

At that moment, another voice shouted, “Gaku . . . Gloria . . . are you out there? Are you all right? We've been looking everywhere for you.”

Gaku ran toward the voice. “It's me, Hal,” he said. “I'm okay.”

“We were worried.” Hal ran toward Gaku and embraced him. “It all happened so fast . . .”

“I was rescued by a neighbor of mine,” Gaku said. “What about TROUBLE?”

“They had him taken away by the cops,” Hal said. “Attempted abduction. Which is precisely what it was.” The staff member wrapped his arm around Gaku. “I already gave the bouncers hell for not coming to your rescue. Come on, let's get you backstage and dressed.”

Junji watched them go. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. Gaku wasn't looking back at him – at all.

He felt like he had lost the best thing he'd ever had in his life.

* * *

For the next two days, he didn't hear from Gaku at all. His phone was completely silent. He didn't try to text the other man – he imagined he didn't want to hear from him.

He spent the time trying to piece together the info he'd gotten already into something resembling a story. It wasn't happening. He didn't have enough to go on - not even from the “How did these rumors get started?” angle.

It was a total flop. He couldn't go back to the staff and get more info – they all knew him now as The Guy Who Rescued Gaku From The Stalker, so he'd lost any chance of anonymity. He was going to have to tell his boss the story wasn't going to happen – after they'd sold all that advertising space next to people who thought they'd be appearing next to a juicy story full of vice.

Gaku decided he really, really needed a beer at this point. Might as well get some while he still had money, because after this fiasco, he imagined the boss was going to fire him.

He headed down the elevator to the lobby – where he saw a familiar figure, going through his keychain again – looking for his door key as he had the very first day. And damn if Gaku didn't look as sweetly beautiful as he did then – even now that Junji knew his secret.

I should walk away from him, forget we ever knew each other and put this whole thing behind us, he thought. But instead, his feet were directing him toward his neighbor.

When he reached him, he said, “I think we need to try this over again, from square one,” he said. “Hello. My name is Junji and I'm your neighbor. I'm a reporter for Jack Flash, and I was assigned to write a story about the alleged kidnappings of unsuspecting men to perform at the Green Door club. Pleased to meet you.”

Gaku looked at him for a long moment, as if weighing whether to answer. Then, he said, “Hello, my name is Gaku, known professionally as Gloria. I'm the featured performer at the Green Door club. We've never kidnapped any unsuspecting men, so you can just forget about that rumor. I'm pleased to meet you, too.”

They just stared at each other for a long moment. Then, Junji wrapped his arms around Gaku, and Gaku leaned against him, hugging him close.

“I've missed you,” Junji said.

“I've missed you, too,” Gaku said. “And I'm sorry I kept the secret from you.”

“No, I'm the one who should be saying he's sorry,” Junji said. “Although, since I didn't know you were Gloria . . .”

“I didn't know you were a reporter, either!” Gaku said. “Especially not one sent to write about the abduction stuff. If I had known that, I would have . . .”

“You would have . . . what?”

He sighed. “I would have still gone out with you. I like you. You're sweet and genuine and the kind of person I don't encounter very often.”

Junji smiled. “Look . . . since we're hitting the reset button, why don't we go back to our bar for this conversation?”

“I've got a better idea,” Gaku said. “Let's go to my apartment. We can talk honestly there. I don't want to talk about, well, what I do in front of a bunch of strangers.”

“You've got it,” Junji said. “I'll even help you pick out the right key.”

* * *

Gaku's place was not exactly where you'd expect a sex show performer to live. It was tasteful and restrained – a couple of art prints on the walls, a modest flat-screen TV with a Playstation attached, some very suburban-looking furniture.

The tenant of the place went to the fridge to get two beers. “So they sent you to investigate the abduction stories,” he said.

“But you said there was nothing to investigate,” Junji said. “No abductions.”

“Well, there were . . . and there weren't,” Gaku said, opening both bottles and handing one to Junji.

Junji looked perplexed. “But . . . you said, downstairs . . .”

“That there never were any kidnappings of unsuspecting men? That's true – there weren't.”

“Then . . . what did you mean by what you said just now?” Junji said.

“Maybe I should tell you about myself.” Gaku cradled the bottle between his hands. “About how I got into this.”

“Well, yes, I'm curious,” Junji said. But what the hell does this have to do with the abduction rumors? he thought.

“Well, as I told you, I wanted to be an actor. I came to Tokyo looking to get parts in films. I was really ambitious, living with a bunch of guys who were all going to auditions and the like. Except nothing came of it. At all. So I started looking into alternative jobs, something to do in the meantime – and one of my roommates was stripping at the time. He suggested I give it a try. So, I became a dancer.”

“At the Green Door?” Junji said.

“No, this was at another club called Insatiable,” Gaku said. “A straight-ahead strip place, no onstage sex. And I was working there for about six months when whispers started circulating about a club with live sex acts that was going to open. They were looking for guys who wanted to go over there. I wasn't interested at first – until the organizers came to me with an idea. They wanted me to do a one-time-only act where I played the part of a guy who had been abducted and brought to the club. And they offered me a huge payday. I mean, HUGE. The guys behind this club had real money.”

Junji looked startled. “So . . . YOU were the abducted guy?”

“I played the part of an abducted guy,” Gaku said. “They did it up – they literally grabbed me off the street, threw me in a car and tied me up. Then they led me onto the stage of the club and told me – in front of the audience – that I wasn't going to be harmed, that I would experience all kinds of wonderful things. And they brought out all these guys, and I performed the four-man act for the first time. It was a smash. It put the club on the map.”

“And it led to the rumors of other abductions?” Junji said.

“Well, because I was such a hit, they tried to hire other dancers to play the part of an abducted man,” Gaku said. “But none of them went over as well as me. So then the club asked if I'd be a regular part of their show. They dropped the abduction part of the act and just had me perform – every few nights I'd do the four-man act, and between that, I'd perform with one guy, or several guys using toys, or I'd just do a stripper act. But, well, the original abduction act got out there in the gossip grapevine, and of course, once people started telling the story to each other, it changed. It became a constant series of kidnappings – and the management never denied it. It was free publicity.”

“Why did you do it?” Junji said, quietly. “Because you enjoyed it?”

“Mostly because of the money,” Gaku said. “Because of the attention – I do like having fans. Well, not like the guy who jumped on stage that night. We call him TROUBLE. He's a stalkerish guy who shows up every so often. Most of the fans are respectful, though. And I also do it to make contacts – some high-powered movie guys show up there.”

“But the sex itself?”

“It's not like sex to me,” Gaku said. “When I get up there as Gloria, it's like an out-of-body experience. It's like it's not really happening to me. All I'm focused on is putting on a show and getting the guys I'm with off. I'm not really getting extreme pleasure from it – especially during the four-man act. I've learned how to make it look like I'm having a great time when, well, it's strictly business.”

“You can't feel pleasure anymore?” Junji said. “It's desensitized you?”

Gaku paused for a long time, as if he was considering whether to say something. Then, he said, “Not always. I'd be capable of pleasure if it were sex from the heart . . . with the right guy. In that case, it would be Gaku making love, not Gloria fucking.”

For a few seconds, Junji wanted to ask him if he was the right guy. He thought better of it. This wasn't the time.

Instead, he said, “Well, I guess that does it for the rumors. There isn't a story. Unless . . .”

“Unless . . . what?”

“You agreed to me doing a profile of you.”

“I don't want to ruin any chance of me getting into mainstream entertainment, you know,” Gaku said.

“And I wouldn't ruin it for you,” Junji said. “I wouldn't use your real name at all – or any identifiers. I'd change them to protect the innocent, as they say. It would be a biography of the Gloria persona. Your experiences in the industry, how you became the source of these rumors, what it feels like to be onstage. It would be an intelligent approach to all that. Please, Gaku – it would be a fascinating story.”

There was a pause. “You promise it would just be about the Gloria side of me.”

“Promise. Just some background on you – with details altered. The rest is all Gloria.”

“All right, I'll do it,” Gaku said. “For your sake, since you came here to get a story that doesn't really exist.”

“But there IS a story,” Junji said. “It's YOUR story, Gaku. You're a better story than the abductions would be any day.” He paused. “Plus, I really do like you. Gaku, Gloria and all.”

“I really like you, too,” Gaku said.

They smiled at each other. Their relationship had entered a new phase – one with no secrets. Only the truth.

* * *

They spent the next couple of days working intensely on a piece that would become known as “Portrait of a Sex Show Worker.” Junji had only a very narrow window of time to make his deadline, so he interviewed Gaku, interviewed his coworkers at the club (who were willing to talk on the record once they had the endorsement of their Gloria that he was on the level) and even got the opinion of a psychologist he'd worked with on other pieces about why people got into sex work. (He then got Gaku's reaction to the psychologist's opinion, which boiled down to, “He's completely full of shit.”)

Junji finally finished the ultimate draft with minutes to go, E-mailed the boss and held his breath. It was different from the piece he was originally assigned to write – but, in his opinion, it was BETTER than a kidnapping story would have turned out to be.

He got a call on his cell within hours of sending it off. “Junji?” his boss said. “What is this?”

“The truth,” Junji said. “You sent me to find out what's happening at that club. That's what's happening. That's where the kidnapping stories came from – the beginning of this performer's career. Take it or leave it, sir.” And if you leave it, he thought, I'm taking it elsewhere.

“We're taking it,” the boss said. “We're definitely taking it. It's pretty damn fascinating. Nice work. Only . . . how did you get all these people to talk on the record? Especially Gloria?”

“I was truthful with them,” Junji said. “Once I cut out the bullshit pretense of being a caterer, they opened up.” Well, that was kind of honest, right? “Oh, another thing – Gloria doesn't want any photos of him with the piece. He wants to get into legitimate film someday. We can run artistic silhouette-type pictures, or photos from the back, but nothing where his face is seen.”

“Fine, fine,” the boss said. “We'll have a photographer down there tonight – just be very sure you know exactly what pictures you want, because we don't have much wiggle room time-wise.”

“I know, I know,” Junji said. He hung up and went next door, knocking on Gaku's door. His neighbor opened up, wearing sweats and a T-shirt – a far cry from the glamor of Gloria, but no less alluring.

“What is it?” Gaku said. “Did the boss like the piece?”

“He loved it,” Junji said. “It's running. He agreed to my photo suggestions – they're sending a guy down tonight.”

“Oh, my God!” Gaku said, holding the door open wider so Junji could enter. “That's terrific!”

“I'm really pleased with it, Gaku,” Junji said. “I think it's better than anything I've ever written – music OR crime. It's, well . . . human. Very human. I'm so glad you agreed to do it with me.”

“I'm glad I did it,” Gaku said. He went over to the refrigerator. “You want anything?”

“Just a Coke, if you have one,” Junji said, sitting on the couch. “You really are glad you did it?”

“It was a lot of soul-searching,” Gaku said. “It made me ask myself some big questions – like, why I'm in this lifestyle. It's something I haven't really asked myself – I've just gone on automatic pilot. But now, I'm thinking, maybe . . .” He handed Junji his soda and opened one of his own. “It's time for a change.”

“Oh?” Junji said. “Why?”

“The other night, when I was performing . . . something happened,” Gaku said. “Not the stalker, mind you. The night before the stalker. I realized that you have to have a certain mindset to do this – to separate your mind from your body, the mental from the physical – and I may not be entirely in that mindset anymore.”

“Why?” Junji said. “What happened?”

“I lost focus,” Gaku said. “I usually am concentrating entirely on the act, making sure it goes right. But that night, I couldn't. I could only think of something else.” He paused. “SomeONE else.”

“You mean . . .” Junji said.

“I mean I was thinking of you, dammit,” Gaku said. “When those men were touching me, I kept thinking of your hands on me. I wasn't Gloria in that moment – I was Gaku. Meeting you . . . it helped me reconnect with something human in me, something I didn't realize was there anymore. So . . . that was it.”

There was a long silence as Junji digested that. He was hearing . . . exactly what he'd most hoped he'd hear.

“You know,” he said, “it was the same for me. When I was in the club, watching the performances before yours, I was looking at people having sex, and thinking about being with you. I didn't know you were Gloria at the time, of course. I was just thinking of you. The REAL you.”

“Oh, my God,” Gaku said, putting his hand over Junji's. “We were both thinking the same thing, weren't we? We were thinking . . . about each other.”

“Maybe we should have been more honest about THAT sooner,” Junji said. 

“Would you be comfortable dating an adult entertainment performer?” Gaku said. “I mean, I'm giving up the live sex shows, but I'm still going to be dancing. I've got bills to pay.”

“If you'd be comfortable dating a journalist,” Junji said. “I've got bills to pay, too.”

Gaku laughed. “Of course I'd be comfortable with it. I'm even comfortable with the fact that you wrote my story. Or, rather, Gloria's story.”

“It's still your story,” Junji said. “He's a part of you – and every part of you is beautiful.”

“You're every bit as much of a flatterer as you were when I first met you, you know that?”

“And you don't seem to mind.”

Gaku leaned over, wrapped an arm around Junji and pulled him close, kissing him. It was the kind of kiss that was a long, long time coming, and they took their time with it, wrapping their arms around one another, exploring one another's mouths slowly. They only let tongues come into play when they were both well comfortable with what they were doing, letting the sensations gradually turn up the heat.

Gaku eased away from Junji. “I don't mind at all,” he said. “I never have.” He leaned over and kissed him again, briefly. “My bedroom . . .” He kissed him again. “Is over . . .” He added another kiss. “There.”

“Well, we don't want to waste any more time, do we?”

They headed for the other room, hand in hand, kissing all the way.

* * *

Gaku was used to sex as performance, as something he did for the enjoyment of others. He'd forgotten how it felt to just do it for himself and his lover.

He was relearning it by slowly kissing his way down Junji's chest as the other man lay on his back on the bed. He was fully experiencing the warmth of his skin, his scent, the way he arched upward as if silently asking for more . . .

Gaku ran his hands slowly upward, memorizing every inch of the other man. He just plain felt beautiful. His chest was smooth, the skin stretched over tight muscle, and when he reached the nipples, they hardened rapidly under his touch, a tangible reminder of the desire between them.

His hand moved upward still, until his finger traced the shape of his lover's lips, then pushed inside, instantly being surrounded by wet heat. He moved it in and out, feeling a hot, wet tongue tease it, and he leaned over and began to suck the nipple, both men moaning deep in their throats.

Gaku pulled his finger out and leaned over to kiss Junji's lips, straddling him, rubbing their bodies together. It was just so good, the sensation of one hard, flat chest pressing against the other, skin to skin . . .

They shifted a bit, Gaku laying full-length atop Junji now, and then cock was brushing against cock. They both sucked in their breaths, Gaku letting out a soft “Yes” as he began to move, thrusting against his lover, feeling the friction, the slow pleasure that stole through him. He leaned back, moaning, eyes closed, and Junji leaned up, kissing his neck.

Here he was, a professional sex performer, getting pleasure from an act usually associated with teenagers groping in their parents' basement – rubbing and grinding – and loving every moment of it.

Junji's hands ran over his ass, grabbing it and caressing it, and Gaku thrust faster, his cock brushing against his lover's over and over. He moved his hips a little this way, a little that way, listening to the other man's moans get louder and more intense.

“Suck me,” Junji moaned. “Suck me as I get you ready.”

Gaku knew just what he wanted him to do. He moved so he was kneeling astride his lover's chest, and leaned way over, his lips wrapping around the tip of the lovely, hard thing, his tongue rubbing back and forth against it.

Oh, God . . . it was like doing this for the first time all over again. This wasn't just something thrust in his mouth, something he had to dutifully work on while the audience watched. This was COCK, hot and throbbing and there just for his pleasure. He moved down on it eagerly, savoring how it felt sliding through his lips, how it filled his mouth.

He sucked on it, rapidly moving his head, taking it just as deep as he wanted it, so he could experience the taste and the feel and the scent, the sounds that Junji made in response to what he was doing . . . and then there was a lubed finger pressing into him, filling his entrance, which just made him move faster and harder.

Junji pushed a second finger into Gaku, opening him more, as Gaku sucked eagerly, purring in his throat, thinking he felt so completely filled by his lover right now, being penetrated in both ends at once . . . 

When the third finger entered him, he raised his head, moaning loudly, and murmured, “I want to ride you, please, I want to see you . . .”

“No way am I saying no to that,” Junji said. He slid the fingers out, and Gaku climbed off him, turning around to face him. He held out his hand, and Junji put a condom and the lube in it. He tore the packet eagerly, pulling out the thing inside and rolling it on his new lover, lubing it quickly.

He straddled him again, positioning himself, then moving down, slowly . . . the first penetration was painful, as it always was, but he willed it to go away. He wanted, needed to feel pleasure.

And it came, slowly at first, then stealing over his body rapidly. It was like no penetration he'd felt in eons. It wasn't about something being shoved into him. It was about, well, something filling him, seeking out his hot spots and rubbing against them, making him moan.

“Fuck, look at you,” Junji moaned. “Just look at you. You're the most gorgeous creature in the world.”

His words just made Gaku move faster, thrusting on the wonderful thing inside him, looking down at Junji, at how gorgeous he was, arching up against him, moaning and sweating and wearing a dazed expression of bliss . . .

The two of them moved as one, Junji's hands moving along Gaku's body, stroking his thighs, moving up to his chest, caressing his nipples, then moving down, brushing over his cock with the faintest of touches that shot through Gaku like a lightning bolt, making him cry out, “Fuck yes, fuck, so good . . .”

Junji wrapped his fingers along the shaft, stroking it rapidly, and Gaku cried out louder, thrusting down on the hardness, feeling it hit an extra-sweet spot that made stars explode behind his vision. He cried out, a full-throated sound of passion, and leaned back as his whole body shook, ecstasy cresting through him again and again.

He continued to thrust on his lover, moaning as he did so, and Junji murmured, “Yes, I'm close, I'm so close, keep going . . .” And then, he let out a cry of his own, arching forward, letting out a loud shout, finally sagging to the bed, gasping, Gaku falling atop him.

Gaku just lay there, breathing hard, feeling wonderful and drained and like he never wanted to move from this spot, ever. All the sex he'd had in that club . . . and none of that had been like this. Nothing at all.

It was the difference between Gaku and Gloria – the difference between fucking and making love.

* * *

As he held his new lover, basking in the afterglow, Junji realized this was the luckiest assignment of his life. He'd balked against it when it was first offered to him, but, well . . .

He was meant to have it. Because it had brought him and Gaku together. Forcing them both to confront the truth about each other – and themselves – means they now had the makings of a real relationship.

“I'm so glad I met you,” he whispered to the other man. “So very, very glad.”

“So am I,” Gaku said.

They held each other in silence, enjoying the feeling of being a couple – a new phase in their lives that had been a long time coming. And now that they had it, they weren't letting it slip away.

* * *

When the piece was finally published in Jack Flash, it became something of a sensation.

Overnight, the editors' E-mail boxes exploded with praise for it. The issue in question flew off the stands faster than any they'd run in years. People came for a lurid sex club expose, and they found a very human portrait instead.

It even resulted in increased business for The Green Door, even though Junji had used a false name for it in the story – he called it the Red Room. But a lot of people figured out that the place in the article was the club they'd heard gossip about. However, when they got there they found out – to much disappointment – that Gloria didn't perform there anymore.

Indeed, Gaku had done what he'd said he was going to do and went back to dancing in strip clubs, calling himself G-Man instead of Gloria. It was a career transition that didn't last long, however, as he ended up getting his ultimate wish – sort of.

A producer of gay pink films – a type of softcore porn, with plenty of simulated sex but also genuine plots – read the article, and wanted to cast the notorious Gloria as the lead in his new film. He contacted Junji wanting to be put in touch with the performer.

“I'll have to ask him,” he told the producer. “I don't know if he'd be interested in something like that anymore.”

When he brought the subject up with Gaku, however, he received far less resistance than he'd thought. “Those films are a stepping stone to the mainstream,” Gaku said. “Hell, yes, I'm taking it!”

“But . . . but you'd wanted your identity concealed in the article . . .”

“I didn't know the article was going to lead to something like this! I didn't think even pink producers would want someone who had been in a live sex show!”

He passed his audition, got the part, and . . . well, it didn't lead to a mainstream movie career right away, but it did lead to steady work for the producer, not to mention a number of even more lucrative modeling gigs and a love and sex advice column in a gay men's magazine. The latter was actually ghostwritten by his boyfriend, but nobody had to know that.

Speaking of Junji, he also got what he wanted – sort of. He didn't get a book deal for a novel, but he did get one to expand his piece on Gloria into a whole book about the lives of sex show performers. He spent a lot of time going from red light district to red light district, interviewing people in secret clubs and back alleys – and turning down a lot of offers to sample the performers' wares. His body was for only one man. (Well, except for the rare occasions when they had a three-way with one of Gaku's co-stars – but they regarded them as shared experiences that just brought them closer together).

Indeed, as the fortunes of both of them increased, they had less need to worry about paying the bills – especially since they were living together less than a year after the publication of the initial article. It was a life of domestic bliss, sharing the household chores and cooking, getting a dog which they walked together in the park, having movie nights where the alternately picked what to watch. There were fights and disagreements, to be sure – but they always worked them out. What they had was too previous to lose.

Ultimately, they built the kind of life neither had dared dream of when Junji was chasing true crime stories and Gaku was doing four men at once on stage. And it was one without keeping secrets from each other. Happiness, it seemed, was built on total honesty.


End file.
